Meetings Great and Small
by Nora Winters
Summary: Some meetings just happened, others are destiny.
1. Chapter 1: Just What They Needed

**Chapter One: Just What They Needed**

Heyes lay on his bunk, engrossed in the book he was reading, ignoring the clamor throughout the bunkhouse. While the gang had successfully stolen a payroll from a train ten days previously, they had lost two men in the process. Big Jim had a strict rule about laying low for a time after a robbery to avoid any posses, and with their losses they were laying low longer than usual. The men, however, were eager to get to town to spend the money they had taken, so cabin fever was running high, and the bunkhouse was even louder than normal.

Heyes had joined Big Jim about eight months earlier, and had to admit Big Jim seemed to run a gang better than the others he had experienced in his short life, but still these were not men who lived calm, sedate lives and their leisure time reflected this. Over the last year or two, he'd become accustomed to the noise of gangs and did his best to fit in. He was younger than the others and smarter – both traits made it difficult at times. Generally he managed to get along with most anyone, but none of the men were what he would call a friend, and sometimes he was so lonely it hurt.

The door to the bunkhouse swung open and Big Jim strode in. The clamor died down as the gang members waited to see what Big Jim had to say. Heyes sat up.

"Men, enough time has passed since our last job, it's time to go to town." Big Jim proclaimed. Hurrahs arose after this announcement. "Alright, alright, enough. You men clear out of here; I need to talk to Wheat and Hannibal." He watched them leave, then closed the door and turned to face Wheat and Heyes.

"Wheat, Hannibal, I need your assistance when we get to town," Big Jim began. Wheat puffed up at the knowledge that Big Jim still relied on him, even if he did have to share the relationship with that… with Heyes. Heyes looked from Big Jim to Wheat, waiting to hear what Big Jim wanted. "As you know we are short men at the moment, so we need to keep an eye out for likely candidates."

"Well shoot, Jim, any of the boys can help with that," said Wheat visibly deflated.

"Yes, normally," replied Big Jim impatiently. "But this time I'm looking for something special - a gunnie. Now hold on…" he stated, holding up a hand as the two appeared to be about to speak. "You know I don't hold with shooting during a job, just riles people up against us, but we lost two good men on that last train job when the guards started firing on us. If we had us a gunnie who could hold his own, the guards wouldn't dare fire. But we need to be careful; most of those men are too hot to handle, and I want one that will listen to directions and not shoot first – and definitely not shoot to kill."

"How we gonna find someone like that?" asked Wheat.

Heyes still said nothing, but possibilities began flickering in his brain as he listened.

"That's why I'm raising it with you before we get to town." Big Jim looked around clearly ready to change the subject. His eyes lighted on the book on the bed beside Heyes. "Hannibal, you're reading dime novels now? Beneath you, isn't it?" He picked up the book, as Heyes made a grab for it.

Wheat took the book from Big Jim and smirked, glad to have something to torment Heyes about. "_Kid Curry and the Valley of Vengeance_," he read aloud, looking at it. It was a paperback, illustrated with a drawing of a long-haired, handsome giant holding a scantily clad saloon girl in one arm while brandishing a gun at a horde of desperados. "Hoowee, boy, this what you're spending your time reading? And here we all thought you was so smart an' all."

Heyes turned red and glared, reaching for the book.

Big Jim gave a short laugh. "Kid Curry, huh. I've heard of him; if he's anything like his reputation, maybe that's who we should be looking for."

"He's a cold-blooded killer," said Wheat.

"No he ain't!" shouted Heyes.

Big Jim looked at the two of them. "You two know him or you just fighting over nothing, as usual?"

Wheat had not taken kindly to Heyes's arrival, or to the growing reliance Big Jim placed on him, consulting Heyes when developing his plans and generally watching over him. Big Jim, moreover, did little to reduce the tension between them. While he appreciated the usefulness of Heyes's genius, he considered Heyes to be overly cocky, and felt that the rivalry between the two men would keep either from attempting to take over leadership of the gang successfully – at least as long as Big Jim was around.

"I met him once; don't look much like that cover," Wheat said.

"When?" both Big Jim and Heyes asked together.

Wheat looked a little embarrassed. "Back about five, six months ago, in Texas." Big Jim and Heyes knew this must have been during the period when Wheat had left the gang, his nose out of joint because Big Jim had brought in Heyes and was listening to "that upstart" over Wheat who had been second-in-command. Wheat had returned, but he hadn't spoken much about his time away.

"I was riding from a town - I'd had a bit of trouble there." He coughed. "Anyway, I came upon a wagon being attacked by raiders. As they came into sight, I could see a couple of men down, the father and son I learned later. I watched this blond boy shooting it out with the raiders and saw him down two of them and injure another. The raiders pulled out and took off." Wheat paused for a moment. "I was too far away to help, but I came up after." Heyes looked at him, knowing that Wheat had probably held back until he saw the danger was over; Wheat wasn't one to risk his skin over strangers.

"Well dang if that kid didn't swing his gun on me, till I convinced him I wasn't one of the raiders. He was young, didn't look more'n' fifteen."

"He's seventeen, no just turned eighteen," Heyes blurted out, then stopped short. Surprised, the other two looked at him, then, eyebrows raised, Big Jim indicated to Wheat to continue his story.

"As I said the father and son were dead. So were two of the raiders – shot by this kid. The woman was hysterical, weeping and wailing. This boy just looked real mad, eyes like chips of ice, pulled her up and told her to get together what she could take on a horse; they were getting out of there. She wanted to bury her family. Coldest voice I ever heard - that boy telling her that burying them wouldn't make no difference, they'd be just as dead, and we had to go, the raiders would be back in bigger numbers, and he didn't intend to stick around so she could either come with him to a town where she'd be safe or he'd shoot her on the spot, 'cause that would be kinder than what the raiders would do to her when they came back."

Wheat shook his head. "What he said was true, but it was cold, inhuman even. Didn't give her no time to grieve, just grabbed her and threw her up on the saddle of one of the dead men's horses. Then he looked at me and asked me did I have anything to say, or was I planning to hold off the raiders all by myself. I decided to go with them – to see what I could do to comfort that poor woman and maybe protect her from this kid. In the ride to town, I learned he was Kid Curry. Well when we got to a town, he stopped at the outskirts, said it wasn't safe for him in that town but that there was a railhead there and the woman could take a train back east where she'd come from. Then he left." Wheat stared at the far wall, remembering. "That boy was cold and grim the whole way, barely spoke the entire time and no comfort at all to this woman - seemed real angry with her and her family for traveling alone like that. Course it was pretty stupid; just the sort of thing greenhorns do, likely to get them killed, and it did. But I'm telling you, that boy is a killer. We don't want him in the gang."

Big Jim thought for a moment, then turned to Heyes. "Hannibal, you said he was seventeen or eighteen, not fifteen; how would you know that? And why don't you think he's a killer like Wheat says?"

Heyes thought hard, considering his words before answering. "We rode together when we were kids, first out on our own; he's a couple of years younger'n me. He was good with a gun even then, but he didn't have a reputation. We tried droving and hated it. So we traveled together making money as best we could; he'd win some in shooting contests and I'd make some playing poker. He's pretty good at poker too – he can read a man better than anyone I've ever met. But eventually we parted ways. I joined the Plummer gang, then here, and I haven't heard from him since. The Kid Curry I know is no killer. I don't believe he's changed that much. He may have killed, but he's no killer. From what Wheat says, he was alone and trying to protect a family against a number of armed men – that don't sound like a stone-cold killer to me. Maybe he sounded angry because he was upset with the killing."

"Why did you separate?"

"I don't know; we were teenagers, children really; these things happen."

Big Jim turned at the door. "It doesn't matter, not likely to see him around and it doesn't sound like someone we want to go looking for. Keep an eye out in town next week and let me know if you see any candidates for the gang." He left with a brief wave of his hand, without looking at them again.

Wheat looked at Heyes then stalked out.

Heyes sighed sadly and lay back on his bed with his hands behind his head, remembering Kid Curry, worrying about his anger – or was it remorse and pain over the past - the day Wheat met him, and wondering what Wheat would do if he found out they were cousins.

**~~~oOo~~~**

The gang rode in to Harlan's Folly then split to spend their money in their own ways. Harlan's Folly was a "safe" town, making its money catering to the various gangs and outlaws in the area. Bounty hunters knew to avoid the town; they weren't welcome. It could be downright dangerous for them and not just from the outlaws; the townsfolk didn't take kindly to them, either. Their presence was bad for business. It was a rowdy town with a plentiful supply of gambling halls, brothels, and saloons. The gang loved it – here they could kick back, relax, and take care of their bodily needs.

Most of the gang headed straight for the sporting houses. Big Jim, Wheat, and Heyes checked in to one of the nicer hotels. Wheat offered to stand Big Jim to a steak dinner, clearly not including Heyes in the invitation. Heyes shrugged it off; he wanted time by himself anyhow. After he bathed and changed, he headed out to find a good game of poker away from any of the gang members.

Heyes had been playing for several hours and was winning. At first he'd played it safe, winning but not so much that the others would resent it. As he got involved in the game though, he forgot to be cautious. One man called Heyes a cheat, but when no one else at the table backed him, he swept up his remaining funds and left to go drown his sorrows at the bar. Heyes bought the table a round and settled back into the game, though he was more cautious now and made sure to lose occasionally.

Finally, Heyes stood up to take a break. As he headed to the door, the man who had called him a cheat grabbed his arm and swung him around. "Think you're so smart do you?" he growled. "Well me and my friends have ways of dealing with cheats like you." With that three men joined him and helped hustle Heyes out the door and down the street to a convenient alley.

A young man coming from the upstairs rooms of the gambling hall paused at the top of the steps, watching the men exit. His eyes narrowed, then with a quiet nod at the girl he'd been visiting and a final kiss, he came down the stairs. At the bar, he stopped for a moment, thought, then paid his tab and exited turning the same way as the men he had watched leave.

Heyes knew he was in trouble; he looked desperately around for someone from the gang, but saw no one. "Look, I wasn't cheating; I was just lucky, but tell you what, I'll give you back the fifty dollars you lost, and we're even."

"No, we're not even till we teach you not to try to play a man's game, boy." With that, two of the men held Heyes while the other two started swinging at him. Heyes was getting weaker, not sure how much more he could endure, when he heard a voice, "Four on one don't seem like very good odds to me. Why don't we even it up some?"

Heyes tried to see who had spoken but couldn't focus through the blood running in his eyes. A form stood at the end of the alley, looking in at the five of them. The voice was familiar, but in his groggy state Heyes couldn't tell which member of the gang it was.

The men holding him laughed. "Well look'a here, we got us another boy don't know to mind his own business and not mess with men. Four to two don't seem like much better odds to me boy, so get going."

"I count the odds differently. There's the two of us and my six bullets against the four of you. NOW let him go and get out of here."

The four men looked at the interloper and dropped Heyes, who sank to the ground. They laughed and started to pull their guns when, suddenly, two shots rang out and two of them dropped their guns, their hands stinging, while the other two found themselves staring into the business end of the same pistol before they could even draw.

Heyes, who had regained his breath and his gun, stood up. "You heard the man, leave, and maybe we'll let you live. Leave the guns where they are," he added as the men bent to retrieve their weapons. All four looked at the boys and hastened out of the alley.

Just then, Wheat and Big Jim, walked up. They had caught the end of the confrontation and now looked at the two boys, who were staring at each other, grinning with delight, Heyes with blood running down his face, a split lip, and rapidly blackening eye. Big Jim looked at Wheat – "He who I think he is?"

"Yeah, that's Kid Curry."

Big Jim looked him over. Kid Curry looked back calmly, waiting to see what would happen next. "Hannibal, get cleaned up, then you and Mr. Curry can join us at the Golconda Saloon," Big Jim ordered.

"Come on, Heyes, you never could keep out of trouble. You gotta stop winnin' so much, it's plumb annoyin' to folks," the Kid commented, swinging Heyes's arm over his shoulder and helping him walk.

"You gotta work on your timing. You couldn't have come a minute or two earlier?" Heyes growled then he grinned painfully. "Sure is good to see you, Kid."

**~~~oOo~~~**

The Kid sat on the bed, watching Heyes clean up, noting how he'd changed. Heyes was a boy no more. He had filled out some, though still lean, and hardened.

"… so, after Plummer disappeared, I headed out and eventually met Big Jim. He's a good leader and a friend." Heyes had been talking non-stop since they entered the room. There was so much he wanted to say to the Kid, but somehow couldn't, so he talked about anything, everything, to delay the inevitable. Finally, he straightened up and looked at the Kid.

The Kid still looked young, but he'd changed too. He was taller, about as tall as Heyes now, but it was his eyes that showed that he, too, had done a lot of growing up since Heyes had last seen him. If even half the stories Heyes'd heard were true … but was Kid a killer now? Heyes didn't think so; he hadn't hurt any of the men beating Heyes. Of course, that could've been because he was still mad at Heyes. He had to find out.

"Kid, I've sure missed you. I don't remember why we split, but if it was something I did, I'm sorry."

The Kid stood and leaned against the wall. "Heyes, I missed you too. I ran into your buddy there, Wheat, a while back..."

"He's not exactly my buddy."

The Kid smiled. "Yeah, he made that real clear while we were ridin'. Anyway, through Wheat I learned you were ridin' for Devil's Hole, so I worked my way up here to see how you were doin'."

"I'm doing great, Kid."

"I could see that."

"No really, that was, that was … an exception." Heyes couldn't stop grinning, even though it hurt. Then he sobered and looked at the Kid. "Guess we should go join Big Jim and Wheat. You'll like Jim, I think. Big Jim's a good leader, and he listens to me." He drew a deep breath, "we're getting quite the name up here. I got a three hundred dollar price on my head. Guess that's nothing to be proud of but… Look Big Jim is looking for someone special, maybe you could... That is if you want to? If you don't, I understand." He peered at the Kid, trying to gauge what he was thinking, but the Kid had always had a good poker face and was using it with Heyes now.

The Kid watched Heyes for a moment, considering, then exhaled slowly. "What's he looking for Heyes? I don't hire out my gun."

"We lost some men in the last job, and Big Jim thinks if we had someone who was good with a gun and the guards knew it, we wouldn't have problems with them anymore. But Big Jim don't hold with killing, so he don't want a killer." Heyes paused and glanced sideways at Kid.

"You wonderin' if I'm a killer?" the Kid asked sadly.

"No! Honest, I'm not. It's just, Wheat told us how you met, said he watched you kill two men and leave them and the others lying there. And there's all those stories about you." He grinned for a moment. "I can't believe there's a dime novel about you." Then he sobered. "Anyway, I said you weren't a killer, but I know things've been hard for you. If you don't want to try, I understand. If you'd rather, I'll leave with you instead." He paused a moment and looked away, not meeting Kid's eyes. "I don't want to lose you again, Jed."

"Heyes…" the Kid began, stopped, and started again. "Heyes, I have killed. You know those two weren't the first, probably won't be the last. I've never started it, though. If I can, I avoid shootin', and I avoid killin' when I have to shoot, but there were six of them and just me. I didn't have time to be that precise. As to leavin' them lyin' there, we didn't have time to bury them. I've learned to do what has to be done and move on. I don't think about it."

Heyes could tell that last sentence was a lie.

"Anyway, yeah I'd consider joinin' if no one expects me to kill. I…" He looked away from Heyes. "I don't want to be apart anymore either, Heyes."

"Aw, Kid," Heyes began. "Kid, let's go talk to Big Jim and Wheat. At least it's a start."

**~~~oOo~~~**

As they walked to the Golconda Saloon, Heyes tried to tell the Kid what the gang was like.

"… so that's most of them. I get along fine with them, though they're a rowdy bunch, but it just ain't the same. Wheat, now, well Wheat was second-in-command when I joined. He still is, more or less."

The Kid looked at Heyes and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well - I'm good at this, Kid. You know me, I can plan anything, and I know locks. I can open some safes without dynamite - you remember, right? Anyway, Big Jim has been listening to my plans more and more, and Wheat ain't too happy about it. But really Wheat's a good guy, and he don't give me too hard a time. Now, I think you scared him when he met you, and maybe we can use that."

He stopped and turned to face the Kid. "Are you really okay with joining a gang? I know it's not the way it used to be, not what we thought we'd be doing, but I eat regular now and have good clothes and money and a bed and a roof. It's a lot better now, and with you here by my side again, who knows how far we could go."

"Yeah, I'm okay with the outlaw life. I haven't exactly been livin' pure since we were apart, though I don't have a price on my head." The Kid started walking again and grinned. "I've got a dime novel instead. I like the easy money too – sure is good to eat regular again - and I'm not surprised you're good at it. I've never met anyone like you for schemin' and connivin'."

"Well, gee thanks, Kid," Heyes muttered sarcastically.

"Ya know what I mean, Heyes."

"Yeah, I do."

They had reached the Golconda. They stopped for a moment, looked at each other, and shrugged slightly before heading inside together to convince Big Jim that the Kid was just what the gang needed.


	2. Chapter 2: A Word to the Wise

**Chapter Two: A Word to the Wise **

"_**A word to the wise ain't necessary…it's the stupid ones that need the advice." Bill Cosby**_

_Five months earlier..._

The increasingly loud argument at the counter disturbed Kid Curry's contemplation of the bullet selection. Ignoring it, he chose and walked up to the counter to pay, winking at the embarrassed eleven- or twelve-year old boy standing beside his arguing parents.

"Could this man be right? Maybe we should wait for more wagons, but I want to get to our new home," the woman shrilled.

"Eulalie, we are not staying in this one-horse town for a week," shouted the man, turning red. "This is just another attempt to take our money. We'll be fine; we have plenty of supplies and know the route out to the ranch. Why in three days we can be there."

"Mister." The store-keeper tried again. "It ain't like Ohio out here. You don't want to be traipsin' around the country-side all by yourself. There's raiders here. At least hire a guard to go with you."

"Man's right, you need a guard." Kid Curry slapped the boxes of bullets on the counter. "How much I owe you?" he asked the store-keeper.

"That'll be one dollar."

Kid Curry placed a dollar on the counter.

The husband and wife looked him up and down, noting how young he was and how he carried his gun tied down.

"And I suppose you think we should hire a boy like you to guard us?" the man asked. "Just how big a fool do you take me for? You and this man are in it together, trying to con money by scaring the easterners. No, thank you. I can take care of my own. Come on, Eulalie, Joe, let's pack up."

The Kid's eyes narrowed and turned cold. "Mister, you couldn't pay me enough to work for you."

The husband looked into a pair of icy eyes and shivered. For the first time, he doubted the wisdom of traveling alone to their new home. He shook himself and hefted the sack of flour he'd bought, handed the other purchases to the boy and woman, and headed out the door to their wagon. The boy looked back then turned and followed his parents.

"Greenhorns," the store-keeper sighed, watching them leave. "Can't tell such fools a darned thing; going to get themselves killed."

"Yeah," agreed Kid Curry, his eyes following the boy.

~~~oOo~~~

Kid Curry stood at the bar. Money was low so he drank slowly to make the beer last as long as possible. As he drank, he watched four men walk in, order whiskey, and join two others already sitting at a table. His mouth turned down as he realized that they were joining Ringo Larkin, and that they, like Larkin, exuded the arrogance of men eager to use the guns they carried on their hips. The Kid walked over and took a seat at a nearby table, but with his back to them.

"Hey, Ringo, you wouldn't believe what's out there – a nice little family heading out of town to their new home in a wagon all by their lonesome. Wagon's piled high; woman's pretty enough, too. Heck, she's a woman, ain't she," laughed one of the newcomers as he pulled out a chair and straddled it.

"Yeah?" asked Ringo. "They got anything worth having?"

"Well, I couldn't get a good look, but they seemed plenty prosperous, and the woman would fetch a fair price across the border."

"Might be worth investigating."

The others murmured agreement.

"Drink up, boys. Sounds like we got work to do. We can catch them at that dry creek bed about a day's wagon drive from here. Folks shouldn't be wandering around alone in these parts, let's give them an escort." He laughed. "It's only neighborly, and maybe they'll share their good fortune with us."

Kid Curry turned his head, watching them leave. He thought about the odds – six to one. Larkin and his gang were rumored to be vicious killers, and there were more than those six available if Larkin needed them. He didn't need Larkin's gang gunning for him, not while he was on this own, that was sure. He remembered how rude the father had been. He didn't owe that family anything; they had made it clear they didn't want any help from him. Still, that boy wasn't much older than he and Heyes had been when they lost their families. Maybe if someone had helped their families…

Once again he wished Heyes were here to talk things over. Heyes would have come up with a plan. But he hadn't seen Heyes in a long time. He sighed. That parting had sure seemed necessary at the time, but now the reasons were beginning to seem pretty unimportant, and he missed having Heyes beside him. Still, they'd parted company and nothing could change that.

The bartender brought him a second beer. He drank it slowly, thinking about Heyes, wondering where he was, and deciding what he should do now. Finally, he decided. He took the last swallow of beer and headed out.

~~~oOo~~~

At first he followed their tracks, but once he was certain of the spot where the raiders planned to attack, he took off across country, angling towards that spot, hoping to get there in time.

~~~oOo~~~

The wagon had stopped, and father and son were trying to fix the wheel that had come off. They hadn't reached the creek bed. Curry hoped he could make them turn back before the raiders came looking. There wasn't much time.

He raced towards them

The man straightened up and stared incredulously at the boy racing into his camp. "You!" he exclaimed angrily. "You probably did this, loosened the wheel, just so we'd hire you!"

"Mister," snapped the Kid. "You have no time; you have to turn back. Raiders followed you; they're plannin' to ambush you a little ways up ahead. Just take the animals and get back to town. You can get what's left of your wagon later."

The man reddened, glared at the Kid, then marched to the back of the wagon and pulled out a shotgun. The Kid relaxed slightly; the man was finally beginning to see sense. The man turned and pointed the shotgun at the Kid.

"I am telling you for the last time, leave my family alone. We are not going to be taken in by your tricks. There are no raiders. We…"

A shot rang ou. The man fell to his knees. There was yelling and cursing, and the raiders were upon them. The young boy ran to his father's side and snatched up the shotgun. He, too, fell as the bullets began flying from the men riding up to them.

Curry grabbed the woman and flung her under the wagon, then used the team hauling the wagon to protect his position. He was firing as quickly as he could. He dropped one raider, then another – ducked down and reloaded – then jumped up and managed to injure a raider who was trying to get in close to the wagon to snatch the woman. The raider screamed and fell from his horse, clutching his shoulder. The other three men spun around and took off towards town. The Kid fired a few more shots after them to ensure they kept going, before moving from his position.

The woman ran over to her husband and son, screaming her son's name. Crying and shrieking, she sank to the ground, cradling her son's body, ignoring Curry.

Kid Curry checked the men he'd shot. His face tightened – mouth in a grim line, eyes shadowed – as he realized two were dead. The third man, although wounded, would probably live, so the Kid moved the man's gun out of reach and left him some water. He glanced at the family, then turned to the wagon and began to hunt through the contents.

"Leave that alone," the woman screamed. "My husband died for us; you have no right to take anything."

The Kid stared at her then resumed rummaging. Suddenly, hearing a noise he whirled around. Seeing a lone rider approaching, he whipped out his gun and pointed it at the stranger, who stopped and put up his hands.

"Easy, boy. I mean you no harm. I saw the fighting and came to see if I could help."

The Kid looked closely at the stranger, who seemed to be in his late twenties. He was tall, mustached, and there was an air about him that made the Kid think this was not the most honest man he'd ever met – probably had a price on his head – somewhere. Nevertheless, he did not appear threatening at the moment. The Kid lowered his gun and nodded. The stranger dismounted and went to the woman. The Kid continued packing up what they could carry.

"Ma'am," the Kid said, walking back to her. "Ma'am, we can't stay here. The raiders will be back. We need to leave right now."

"No!" she screamed. "No. I can't leave them."

The stranger gently raised her from her position, putting her dead son back down. "Ma'am, he's right. We'll just bury your kin here…"

"No," the Kid interrupted. "There's no time. The raiders will be back and in bigger numbers. We have to leave now. Take what you can carry, and I'll get you to a safe town where you can catch a train home."

The woman continued crying, making no move to leave.

Finally, the Kid picked her up. She began beating her fists against him. He ignored her efforts and placed her on one of the raiders' horses. When she tried to jump down, he grabbed her firmly and held her in place.

"I said the raiders will be back soon. We have to go," he enunciated, at the end of his patience. His head throbbed, and he did not want to look at, or think about, the men he had killed. "I told you; we are leavin' now. We don't have time to bury your menfolk who are dead through your husband's own fool stubbornness – refusin' to listen to good advice. I'm tellin' you, it won't matter to your husband or son if they're buried; they'll still be dead." He pulled out his gun and pointed it at her. "Now come with me right now, or I'll kill you where you sit. You do not want those raiders to get you. You're better off comin' with me, or dyin' right here."

His outburst stunned her into submission.

He let go and swung up onto his horse.

"Hey," the stranger called. "No cause to be like that boy. The woman just lost her family for pity's sake."

The Kid turned and pointed his gun at him. "You got two choices, mister. You can come with me, or you can stay and hold off the raiders for as long as possible. We are leavin'." He holstered his gun again, grabbed the reins of the woman's horse, and headed off.

The stranger gulped, looked after them and around the wagon, then swung up on his horse and joined them.

~~~oOo~~~

They rode for several hours. Throughout the ride, the woman occasionally wept, but never said a word. The stranger rode between the two looking as if he'd like to say something, but thought better of it.

The Kid was grateful for the silence and confined his talking to the minimum – giving directions as he and the stranger muddled their trail to confuse anyone following them. He wished the woman would stop crying. He hated the sound, and it reminded him of how he'd failed the son.

Finally, the stranger looked at the Kid and said, "Boy, I'm pretty sure we have lost them by now. Let's find a place to make camp. I don't think she can ride any further tonight."

The Kid looked over. In the light of the setting sun, he saw that the woman looked spent and was swaying as she clung to the horn to stay on. He nodded and pointed to a small grove of trees. "There's water over there: we can stay there for the night. No fire and you and I will split the watches."

Soon they had reached the grove and set up camp. The three sat down, and the Kid handed around some jerky.

"Maybe we should introduce ourselves," the stranger said. "I'm Wheat Carlson, and, ma'am, you are?"

"What? Oh. Mrs… Mrs… I'm Eulalie Berenson," the woman said then began to cry quietly again. She turned away from the two men.

"Name's Curry."

Wheat's eyes widened. "I heard of you. You got some reputation with that gun. After today, I believe it." He looked at the Kid more closely, seeing just how young he appeared. "No wonder they call you Kid," he muttered. He glanced over. "No offense meant."

"None taken."

~~~oOo~~~

After Eulalie had cried herself to sleep, Wheat turned to the Kid. "I got some whiskey. You want a drink?"

"Thanks."

"Here. That was some fancy shooting back there." Wheat took a big gulp then poured himself another.

The Kid stared in the distance and sipped his.

"I've seen shooting before, but that, that was something special." Wheat took another large gulp, and one more.

"You any good with that gun you're wearin'?"

"Oh, sure. Back in in Wyoming, I ride with a gang – or I used to." Wheat glanced at the Kid to see his reaction but couldn't tell from his face.

"Why'd you leave?"

"Oh, Big Jim brought in this upstart – Heyes – just Heyes. Supposedly he rode with a couple of other outfits before. Anyways, he thinks he knows everything, and Big Jim's thinking he doesn't need me anymore. I saw which way the wind was blowing." He took another gulp. "Yeah, this Heyes thinks he knows everything, always making 'suggestions' on how to do stuff. Shoot, I got better ideas than him, but Big Jim don't ask my opinion hardly ever anymore. So I figured I'd be better elsewhere."

The Kid shot him a quick glance then looked down at his cup. "Said you rode in Wyoming. Guess you've killed some, too," the Kid probed.

"No. I can handle a gun just fine, so don't be thinking of trying anything, but we don't shoot 'less we have to. Shooting just makes the posses real determined. We do okay though. Big Jim's a good leader." He paused a moment to take a drink, then mused, "Funny, the Hole – that's our hide-out, Devil's Hole – ain't much, but it kind'a seems like home." He looked off. "Well, if we're going to take turns standing watch, I'll take first watch."

The Kid walked over to his bedroll. "Wake me in two hours."

But when Wheat went to wake him, he was already awake, lying there staring at the stars.

~~~oOo~~~

It was mid-day before they could see the outskirts of a town.

The Kid halted the three of them. "That's Santiago." He pointed. "They have a train there. I won't go with you. Some folks there're lookin' for me. Wheat, you take Mrs. Berenson on in. She can report what happened to the sheriff, and he'll see she gets back to family." He handed Eulalie the money he had found hidden in the wagon, minus a ten-dollar fee, then rode off.

~~~oOo~~~

_Some months later…_

"… eighty, one-hundred, one-twenty. That's your share Curry. You sure you won't stay? We'd be happy to have you, permanent-like."

"Thanks, Red, but no," the Kid responded. "I've got to look up an old friend."

"Old friend, huh? Must be important to leave this."

"He is."

"Where you heading?"

"Wyoming."

"Watch your back up there. If it gets too cold, you're welcome here anytime."

"Thanks, Red. Bye men, good luck."

The Kid tucked away his share of the loot, cinched his horse's girth, mounted, and headed north.


	3. Chapter 3: The Long March

**Chapter Three: The Long March**

Heyes and Lawson turned quickly as the Kid and Harrison slithered down the steep path to them.

"Here to relieve us?" Lawson stood and hurried up the path as Harrison settled in to the guard position overlooking the entrance to Devil's Hole.

Heyes smiled at the Kid.

Harrison watched cynically. "Heyes, Big Jim said 'specially for you not to linger. He wants you right back at the cabin, so you better not get back after Lawson does."

Heyes sighed.

"I'll just walk him up to the horses then be right back, Harrison."

"Big Jim ain't going to like that, Kid."

The Kid looked levelly at Harrison. "Don't matter. I'm goin' up to the horses with Heyes. I'll be back before anything can happen."

~~~oOo~~~

"Feels like I saw more of you when I was in Texas, Heyes."

"Yeah, Kid, I know," Heyes sighed. "I think Jim's worried."

"Worried about what?"

"About who you'd back in a showdown for leadership."

The Kid looked at Heyes and thought for a moment. "You thinkin' of doin' somethin'?"

"No."

"But…"

"Big Jim's always worried about it. I'm sure it is a problem in a lot of gangs, but I don't see any of the regulars challenging Jim." Heyes smiled at the Kid. "But let's keep it to ourselves for now that we're family."

"Look, I know I'm new here, and I know that means I get ridden a lot, but not sure how much more I can take. This may have been a mistake."

"Jed." Heyes reached out to him. "Please, just a little longer."

"Harrison's voice echoed up the path. "Kid, get your butt down here!"

Heyes sighed, "I gotta go, Kid. Just a little longer, alright?"

The Kid stared off into the distance then looked at Heyes. "Yeah, for now, but…" He shook his head and carefully edged down the steep path.

Heyes watched him for a moment, frowning, then turned, mounted his horse, and hurried back to the cabin.

~~~oOo~~~

Heyes remained closeted with Big Jim and Wheat for the next two days, finalizing the plans for the next robbery. Plans complete, they settled in for a game of poker with the rest of the gang.

The Kid was making dinner as the others played. New man always had to do the cooking; luckily, the Kid had fended for himself enough that his food was edible.

"Wrap it up fellas, the food's ready," he called over his shoulder.

~~~oOo~~~

"Well, Kid, for a gunnie your food's not half bad." Big Jim smiled at him.

Kyle took a swig of his whiskey. "Heyes, you ain't never told us how you two know each other."

"Shoot, Kyle, you don't ask a fella a question like that," Wheat scoffed.

"No, Wheat…" Big Jim drank thoughtfully. "I'm sure we would all like to hear some of their stories from their days together. Hannibal, do explain."

Heyes and the Kid looked at each other. "Well, like I said, Big Jim, we rode together when we were first out on our own…"

"Yes, Hannibal, you did say that. But how did you meet up to ride together in the first place?"

"We were in the same home. Lit out of there together. Figured we'd do better the two of us together than alone."

"You all done?" The Kid stood up, grabbed the plates, and began to clear the table.

"Yes, we are done," Big Jim confirmed, looking at the Kid's back. "For now."

~~~oOo~~~

The Kid set the pinecones up on the log and reloaded. "You know I have your back." He fired off another round.

Heyes watched as he reloaded then got up and placed new pinecones on the log for him.

"The question is, Heyes…" The Kid fired again. "Do you have mine?"

Heyes stared at him. "Of course. Why would you even ask?"

"We ain't seen each other for a long time. You seem awfully happy here. You fit in. Not sure I do; Big Jim don't seem to be takin' to me too well. Maybe I'll move on after this job. Just wonderin' what you'll do if I do." He looked down at his gun, taking a long time to reload.

"Now, Kid, don't go expecting trouble. Remember what Grampa Curry used to say about putting the cart before the horses… What do you want, Wheat?" Heyes asked angrily as Wheat coughed and sauntered into the clearing.

"Big Jim says it's time for the Kid to go on guard duty."

Curry sighed, holstered his gun, and headed off after a long look at Heyes.

~~~oOo~~~

As Heyes strolled into the compound, he saw Wheat coming out of Big Jim's cabin, smirking. Big Jim appeared in the doorway, looked around, and pointed at Heyes.

"HANNIBAL! Come here. We need to talk."

Heyes rolled his eyes and shook his head, watching Wheat walk away. He entered the cabin and shut the door. As he turned, Big Jim's right fist connected with his jaw, knocking him down and into the wall.

"I demand loyalty, Hannibal. I told you that when I took you in. Now, Wheat tells me you've been keeping secrets from me. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps we do not need a gunnie, after all. If you and your… your… the Kid think you can take over, you're wrong." He reached down and offered a hand to help Heyes up.

Heyes pushed it away angrily and stood on his own, breathing heavily. He glared at Big Jim, his fists clenching. Finally, he let out a deep breath. "Big Jim, you know Wheat. You know he always wants to cause trouble for me. You like it that way. I guess you think that keeps me in line. Well, it also creates problems where there aren't any. I don't know what he's been telling you…"

"He says he thinks you and the Kid are family. Is he wrong?"

Heyes exhaled. "No, he's not wrong. We're cousins, grew up together. After our families died, we were sent to a home and left it together like I said."

So the Kid's loyalty is to you, not me. That is a problem, Hannibal."

Heyes huffed in frustration. "Big Jim, the Kid's loyalty, as you put it, is to the leader of the group he's in. He'll watch my back, but he's not going to challenge you, or let me do it. Not that I have any desire to challenge you."

Big Jim turned away, "I have made my decision, Hannibal. The Kid must leave after tomorrow's job."

Heyes stared at Big Jim's back; then, his shoulder's sagged. "If you insist. But, Big Jim, when the Kid leaves, I'll be going with him. I'm not leaving him again."

Big Jim whirled around and looked at him, reading the determination in his eyes. "So be it, Hannibal. Your first loyalty appears to be to him instead of to me, and I won't tolerate that in my gang. This will be the last job for either of you."

~~~oOo~~~

Heyes watched the Kid split wood for several minutes. He looked back at the compound and sighed, then walked up. "Hey, Kid."

"Heyes." The Kid swung the axe and split another log then stooped to pick up the pieces and throw them on the pile.

"You know, Kid, I've been thinking," Heyes began and paused.

The Kid turned his attention to Heyes. "Thinkin' what?"

"Maybe you're right; maybe we should leave after this next job."

The Kid looked him up and down, noting the bruise on Heyes' jaw. His mouth tightened, and he turned, placed another log on the stump, and raised the axe. "What happened, Heyes?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking about what you said about feeling like you didn't fit in. Anyway…" Heyes looked away from the Kid's scrutiny. "Anyway, I think you're right. We were better off on our own. Let's leave as soon as we get our shares."

The Kid frowned. "What aren't you tellin' me? You don't want to leave."

Heyes got angry. "Look, I'm saying we should leave after this job. Are you coming with me, or not?"

The Kid was silent, chopping several logs before he spoke again. "Big Jim said I had to go, right?"

Heyes picked up a log and took the axe from the Kid. "Yeah, yeah he did." He slammed the axe into the log, splitting it with a single blow.

The Kid watched him. "Okay, I'll leave, but you should stay here, Heyes. You fit here; you belong here."

"I'm coming with you, and that's that."

"No, that ain't that! I did just fine on my own. I can do it again. We can still see each other!" The Kid paced angrily.

Heyes glared at the Kid. "I told you before, I ain't leaving you again. I let you walk away once; I'm not doing it a second time." His eyes dropped. "Besides, I don't have a choice. Big Jim kicked me out, too," he muttered.

The Kid looked at him solemnly. "Alright, Heyes, we'll leave together." He smiled crookedly, "It'll be like old times, just the two of us."

Heyes smiled sadly back and left.

The Kid watched him leave and stood staring thoughtfully for some moments before turning back to the wood and chopping furiously.

~~~oOo~~~

The gang knew something had happened, but not what. The tension was high, higher than normal when doing a job, but the job went off like clockwork – almost.

The gang left the bank with several saddlebags full. The Kid left last. "If all you kind folks will just remain on the ground where you are, until that gentleman there counts out loud to one thousand, everythin' will be fine." He pointed at the disarmed and trussed guard, holstered his gun with a flourish, and stepped out of the bank, walking quickly but calmly to his horse.

Kyle heaved a sigh of relief as he saw the Kid step out of the bank. He threw the saddlebag full of coins over his horse in preparation to mounting, when the buckle on the bag broke and coins cascaded to the ground. He stood rooted, aghast, as everyone in the street came to a halt staring at the coins clinking and rolling in the dust.

"Get going men!" Big Jim shouted and spurred his horse. The other followed.

The Kid ran to Kyle. "Never mind, Kyle, just get goin'." He pushed the smaller man onto his horse then slapped the animal to get him started.

He raced back to his own horse, leapt on, and spurred his way out of town in the gang's wake.

~~~oOo~~~

Even as Kyle and the Kid caught up to the rest of the gang, it was clear a posse was already pursuing them. The gang charged on, but the posse's horses slowly closed the gap.

Big Jim signaled for them to stop to rest the horses for a moment. "We need to split up. Harrison, Lawson, you go with Heyes. The rest of you come with me and the money." He glared at the Kid. "That means you."

He looked around. "We'll keep together until we get to those big rocks there." He nodded at a rock formation a little way ahead. "As soon as we get past them and out of sight of the posse, Heyes, you go left, and we'll go right."

They raced their horses, determined to get to the rocks far enough ahead of the posse to have a chance of splitting up.

They had split but could still see each other when the first of the posse rounded the rocks. The posse stopped as it saw the situation. One of the men dismounted and climbed to the top of the rock formation. He sighted down his rifle and shot. Big Jim's horse went down. The other gang members ran on.

The Kid looked over his shoulder and saw the posse closing on Big Jim. He heard a horse scream and cranked around to see Heyes lying on the ground, trapped under his horse. The posse saw the two men down and split, one group thundering towards Big Jim and the other towards Heyes.

The Kid hesitated, looking back and forth. Finally, his mouth set in a grim line; he pulled his gun, shooting towards the posse heading for Big Jim, slowing its advance. He quickly reloaded and galloped to him.

"You alright?"

"Broke my arm. Horse is dead."

The Kid kicked his feed out of the stirrups and reached down. "Get on."

Big Jim swung himself and the money up, and they raced after the others. The Kid looked sideways watching the posse catch up to Heyes until he could no longer see them. They rode on. The Kid flinched and stiffened as he heard a single shot. Big Jim stared at his back as they rode.

~~~oOo~~~

Heyes looked up and saw the backs of Lawson and Harrison. He struggled to free himself from his horse, which was thrashing on the ground, having tripped in a hole.

"You there, hands up! Drop the weapon!"

Heyes sighed and obeyed both commands. "Just wanted to put him out of his misery."  
The leader of the posse was a young man, only a few years older than Heyes. He looked at the horse. "John, he's right, go ahead."

John silently turned his gun on the horse and shot it once in the head. The horse lay still. Another man reached over and emptied Heyes' saddlebags. "Dang, he don't have any of it."

Disgruntled, the leader turned to him. "I'm Wade Sawyer, and you are our prisoner. What's your name?"

"Hannibal Heyes."

Sawyer smiled. "You know, men, this was the Devil's Hole Gang. Mr. Heyes here is worth five hundred dollars. Mr. Heyes, your thieving days are over. I suggest you enjoy the march back to town; it's the last time you'll be outside for a long time."

"March?"

"We don't have any horses, and yours is dead. So, I guess you're walking."

Sawyer turned to the other men. "Tie his hands real good, then I'll tie him to my saddle horn. We won't get back as fast as we left, but we'll get there. Schmidt, ride on back into town to let the sheriff know what's happened. I guess four of us are enough to guard one prisoner, especially one on foot."

The other men laughed then turned to their tasks.

~~~oOo~~~

"We've lost them."

The men had stopped near where they had fresh mounts hidden. Big Jim hesitated and held out his hand. "Kid, I thank you. It took a lot for you to help me and leave Hannibal back there."

The Kid checked his gun. "I'm goin' back for him."

"You heard the shot."

"I did, and if all I can do is bury him, I'll do that. I've buried family before."

Big Jim looked at the set jaw and steely blue eyes, opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded. "Come see me when you get back to the Hole; we have things to settle."

Kyle hesitated then spoke, "I'll go with you, Kid. You helped me back in town, and I reckon I owe you."

"You don't."

Wheat came up with the fresh mounts. "What's happening?"

"Kyle and the Kid are going back to see if they can get Heyes."

The Kid carefully stowed shotguns in the saddle holsters and handed Kyle the lead to a spare horse. Wheat watched them mount the fresh horses. "Shoot, I'll go with you."

"You?!" The Kid stared.

"Well, don't make a big song and dance about it…" Wheat huffed. "Are you coming or not?"

The Kid managed a small grin.

~~~oOo~~~

Heyes plodded along. The Kid had helped Big Jim, not him! He knew he'd told Big Jim that's what the Kid would do, but he hadn't really believed it. When the Kid had agreed to join up, he'd told him to back Big Jim first. For once he wished the Kid hadn't listened to him.

They were passing through a stand of trees, which provided Heyes some welcome shade.

"Stop here," Sawyer called. He looked down at the man stumbling by his side, head down. He reached over and held out a canteen. "Want a drink?"

"Thanks."

"Don't be too grateful. There's no 'dead or alive' language to your reward, so we don't have a choice if we want the money. Of course, you give us too much trouble, and we might decide the money's not worth it."

Heyes gulped.

~~~oOo~~~

The three raced back to where Heyes had fallen. Finding only the horse shot through its head, the Kid let out a huge sigh.

He examined the trail, smiling as he found boot prints among the horse tracks.

They mounted and followed the tracks quickly.

~~~oOo~~~

Heyes trudged on. These boots were not meant for walking, he thought ruefully. Even his blisters had blisters. He looked up at the strip of sky he could see between the rocks of the arroyo they were passing through, the pebbles on the ground further irritating his feet through the worn soles of his boots. Jail might not be so bad. At least he wouldn't have to walk anymore. Or march, as Sawyer put it. No, he sighed, jail would be awful.

As he glanced up at the sky, a lasso snaked out from a rocky outcropping. It caught Sawyer and lifted him off his horse, depositing him on the ground at Heyes' feet. Shots rang out from both sides, sending flecks of rock cascading over the startled posse.

John frantically reached for his gun, only to have it shot out of his hand.

"Throw down your weapons. Muy pronto," Wheat's voice rang out.

Heyes' eyebrows rose as a grin stretched his cracked lips.

The Kid slid down the slope into the arroyo, keeping the rope binding Sawyer taut. Wheat and Kyle remained above, the shotguns in their hands creating silhouettes to terrify the frightened posse.

"You okay?"

"Great now. Good to see you, Kid." Heyes' dimples shone.

The Kid grinned back. He reached down and removed Sawyer's gun and handed it to Heyes, while he untied him. Once Heyes was free, the Kid loosened the lasso and freed Sawyer.

Sawyer glared. "I'll get you another day, Heyes." He paused and glared at the Kid. "And your friend here."

"Maybe you will, but looks like you were wrong once today already. My thieving days aren't over, after all. So, maybe you'll be wrong about that, too."

"We have fresh mounts up there, Heyes. What should we do with these?"

"Let's ride 'em up; then we'll see. I've done enough walking for the day."

"And what about us?" Sawyer stormed.

Heyes looked at the Kid. "It's your call, Kid."

"How badly they treat you?"

"Could've been worse."

"Then I think I'll just tie them up lightly. You'll be able to free yourselves in about half an hour," the Kid said, suiting action to words. He gathered their guns and tossed them away, after emptying their chambers.

Heyes mounted Sawyer's horse. "Come on, Kid, boys, let's get out of here before the town sends out another posse."

"And what'll we do in the meantime?" Sawyer muttered.

Heyes smiled at him. "Why, once you get free, you can do what you wanted me to do – march yourselves back to town."

~~~oOo~~~

The men gathered up their shares of the money that had been distributed.

"Well, Jim, we'll just go pack our things…" Heyes started.

The men stared and muttered to themselves.

Big Jim looked at him. "Yes, pack them up, Hannibal. I've been thinking that you could help me plan better if you were up at the cabin. Why don't you move your things to the spare room there?" He looked around at the rest of the gang. "And I think Mr. Curry has proven himself now; it's time for the rest of you to resume your share of the chores."

Heyes and the Kid looked at each other, eyebrows raised, and grinned.

~~~oOo~~~

Heyes found the Kid sitting on a stump by the clearing where the men practiced their shooting. He sat next to him. "Want a cigar?"

"Thanks. Want some whiskey?"

"Thanks." Heyes took a drink then looked off in the distance. "Jed, remember the first time we drank whiskey?"

The Kid laughed. "Both of us thought it tasted horrible – worse than that tonic you ma used to give us. Guess we've grown some since then."

Heyes chuckled and the two sat silently, watching the sky darken as the sun set.

"Why'd you go after Big Jim, Jed? I thought you'd come for me."

"I thought about what you'd do and decided to go for him."

"You thought I'd abandon you?"

"No, Heyes. I thought you'd figure I could protect myself and go for the leader who was questionin' our loyalty, then come get me."

Heyes looked at him with respect. "That's quite a scheme, Kid; it's worthy of me."

"Yeah, well, I learned from the best, Heyes; I learned from the best."

Heyes chuckled.

The Kid chuckled too then sobered. "But when I heard that shot…" He shuddered, and a look of despair crossed his face. "Not sure I'd do it the same way the next time."

Heyes patted his leg. "We'll just have to plan better, make sure there is no next time."

They sat silently for a moment, Heyes with his legs stretched out before him, ankles crossed, and leaning back against a convenient tree.

The Kid grinned and lightly kicked Heyes' heel, knocking his foot off the other ankle. "Guess next time we go to town you need to get new boots, Heyes. Those are lookin' a mite worn."

"What are you talking about, Kid? I just got these broke in." He smiled as the Kid groaned. Heyes took another slug of the whiskey and passed it back.

They sat shoulder to shoulder, smoking and passing the bottle back and forth, quietly watching the night settle in.


End file.
